Our Little Secret: A School Story
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: Alphonse Elric had thought that he was cursed to never get a relationship, what with his affection for unattainable romances. That is, until he gets involved with Roy Mustang, his English Teacher. Pairing: Roy x Al, High School Alternate Universe.
1. Our Little Secret

**Title:** 僕たちの小さなヒミツ：学園物語

**Pairing:** RoyxAl

**Fandom:** Fullmetal Alchemist

**Rating: **PG-13

**Genre:** Romance/slice of life

**Timeline: **Gakuen AU

**Notes:** Teacher!Roy and Student!Al

**Warnings: **Shounen-ai, Alternate Universe, Teacher/Student relations.

**Notes: **This is based on a collection of drabbles I wrote under a similar theme, called "小さなヒミツ", or "A little Secret". And I'm sorry if this story seems too much like something you'd see in "Tokimeki Memorial" or something of that nature…that's the feel that I'm aiming for. Actually, Tokimeki Memorial was partially to blame for this story idea in the first place. And the main pairing may be RoyxAl, but you will find interactions between the other pairings in this story…so don't be surprised if you find Ed x Winry fluff or something of that nature here.

**Summary: **Love isn't something you choose—it's something that just _happens_, latching itself on when you least expect it and hanging on for dear life. For Alphonse Elric and Roy Mustang, their romance was just a little bit more unconventional than others, even if the rest of the world didn't quite agree with that. One year, full of joy and sorrows, holding together a romance that should, for all intents, purposes, and conventions, have fallen apart at the seams…One year that both would remember for the rest of their lives.

**Full Pairings List:**

Roy x Al

Ed x Winry

Alfons x Sheska

Hughes x Gracia

* * *

僕たちの小さなヒミツ：学園物語 

"Our Little Secret: A School Story"

**Prologue:**

先生のこと、好きです。　"Sensei, I like you."

* * *

If Alphonse Elric had to describe how exactly it happened, or rather, where exactly it started, he would have probably mentioned the day when the two had to sit in the gazebo to wait out the storm, eyes never meeting but their attentions still focused on each other. 

If Roy Mustang had to say anything about it, it was the day he found Alphonse helping the weeping woman carry her dog off the street in tear-filled determination, after the poor thing got hit by a speeding car.

But if either of them had to make the same choice, their money would have had to be on the moment Alphonse Elric's eyes bore into Roy's from across the café table, fists clenched and jaw set, gentle voice speaking words with an innocent tenacity that surprised both present. It had been summer of course, the day before the vacation would come to its close, bringing in the new school year. Luckily the café was near empty at the time, or else there would have been quite a few frightened onlookers, some of which most likely ready to call the police at any moment.

Though, if Al had been an onlooker himself, he probably wouldn't have known what to do about what he saw, either.

"_Mr. Mustang…I…I love you."_

_Roy's eyes had lowered towards his coffee, avoiding Al's gaze entirely as he started to take a long sip. That wasn't exactly the reaction Al had in mind to be sure; then again, he was the idiot who had to blurt out his affection in the middle of a café at nine in the morning, talking with a man who was twelve years his senior and had probably been given more confessions of this sort than he would ever dream of receiving in his entire lifetime. _

_He took one sip. Then two. _

_Al was starting to think that maybe this confession thing had been a bad idea. _

_A very, very bad idea. _

_"No…you don't, Alphonse. You think you're in love with me, but you're not." _

_…What? THAT was the response he got? No "I'm sorry, I'm not interested," no "You're too young for me," no "I'm already called for."? _

_Just "No, you're not"? _

_Something in Al's stomach started to lurch. Did he really not take him that seriously?_

_"Yes…Yes, I do." How he had managed to keep his tone even…rather, how he had managed to not squeak out an apology and run out the door, was a mystery to the boy. Roy's eyes didn't meet his, not even for the flicker of a moment…rather they stayed down towards his coffee, as Al's fingers started to unclench and wrap around his untouched lemon tea. _

_"Don't you think that perhaps what you feel is just a father complex? You've never had a father really, you're home alone with your brother for the most part, and you even told me yourself that you wished you had someone to look after you in lieu of the father you never had."_

_"I may have wished that I had a father…well, a real one anyway," Why was he still sitting there? Why was he still even talking? "But I think I know the difference between a complex and love. Unless I'm incestuous, in which case it would have been my brother that I had feelings for, and not you." _

_"I forgot that you already have quite the brother complex."_

_"You're changing the subject." _

_"Am I?"_

_Daggers started clenching into the younger Elric's gut, but lead forced his legs down, preventing the normal escape route from coming to fruition. All he had to do was stand up and apologize, setting down the money for the tea and promptly dash out the door, and he would never have to put up with these feelings of his again. He would try to fall in love with a normal girl, go on double dates with his brother and Winry, and try to have a taste of normal romance for a change…instead of all the impossible ones he seemed to want to pursue. Older women, older men, married women, taken girls…what was next? Incest? Maybe he'd chase serial murderers or insane cultists next, with the luck he seemed to have. _

_Maybe Alfons was right. Maybe he was cursed. _

_He thought all of this, but why was his mouth still moving?! Why couldn't he just get up and go? What about this was so worth it that he had to ignore every signpost that told him that this whole thing was a very stupid idea?!_

_But what made it all the worse was that Roy wasn't even looking at him. _

_**But I love him. Even if he hates me for it, if I don't tell him now I'm going to regret it even more later. I know that. **_

_"I know…that you're older than me. I know that you're a man and that you're probably not interested in me at all. I know that you probably have had lots of girlfriends and you've told me yourself that you've been pretty promiscuous. And maybe this is just a crush. Maybe you're right about me not loving you. But you told me yourself that you can't help who you love, and if you care about someone…the best thing to do is tell them, right? You can try to hold it inside, but it just makes you miserable in the end…" _

_A sigh came from Roy's lips, and he took another sip of his coffee. _

_"If I had known that you were talking about me that day, I probably wouldn't…"_

_"Look me in the eyes and say that." _

_He was dead. He was in for it. He had no reason to say something like that and he just up and said it. Whatever person had said that Alphonse Elric wasn't impulsive was probably an idiot. He just hid it well, and this was one of the times that he wished he could have hid it a lot better than he did. It would have probably prevented this whole mess from coming up._

_But the usual apologies were not rising to his lips. His body wasn't shaking. And the desire to bolt was strictly instinctive, his subconscious beating away the idea with a big stick as silver eyes watched cerulean lift a little bit. _

_No anger. No anger within them whatsoever. There was something else, but not at all unpleasant…something nice to look at. Warm, perhaps, though not like his tea or Roy's coffee. Something a little bit different from that but not quite. It was hard for Al to try to wrap himself around it without feeling a bit of pink rise to his cheeks and his hands become fidgety. _

_"...If we do this, do you know how much trouble the two of us could be in? This wouldn't just be a slap on the wrist, Alphonse…"_

_"I turn eighteen this October," Al said, ignoring the tiny bit of hope floating in his chest. "And I graduate at the end of this school year." _

_"I keep forgetting how old you are sometimes. You have the body of a man, but the face and the guile of a child." _

_"It could be worse. I could be really short and be mistaken for a twelve-year-old, like Brother."_

_"As always, this goes back to your brother. Even after confessing your affections to someone, your brother complex still somehow shines through." _

_"I **don't** have a brother complex." _

_"Of course you don't." _

_"I really don't, Mr. Mustang! Quit teasing me!" _

_"Call me Roy."_

_Alphonse Elric felt his irritation jerk out of him with a skidding stop, flying out his ear and replaced with that sort of numb surprise that one usually felt when they were being told that they had passed an exam that they swore they failed, or when they were told that they got the job that they swore that they weren't qualified for. Hands shaking, Al raised his lemon tea to his lips and took a tiny sip._

_Gigged frog, much?_

"_What…?"_

"_If we're going to make this work," A quiet smile was forming on the corner of the older man's lips—one that made Al's heart do a flip in his chest and his face start to burn. "We should do away with the formalities."_

_Nothing could compare to the warmth and joy that Alphonse Elric felt gather in his stomach at that moment, his body almost lunging out of the seat of its own accord and wrapping the unwitting man in a tight embrace. _

"_Thank you, Roy!" _

…Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't the best idea to give him a hug in a public place, but at least nobody saw them. Or at least, nobody said anything about it.

Though it was hard for Alphonse to make up an excuse as to why he had such a bounce to his step, and not cave in and tell his overprotective brother everything. At least the "I saw the cutest kitty!!" excuse seemed to suffice, though he didn't really like lying to Ed about anything.

But it wasn't as if Ed would be perfectly all right with it…

"And the assignment will be due next Tuesday. I also have last week's test graded, and if you have any questions about your score, see me after class. I don't want to hear any complaining about 'why is my grade so low' or 'why did you count this question wrong". Heiderich, if you would be so kind as to pass these out for me."

"Yes, Professor Mustang."

"Bastard teacher," "Perverted old man", "Stupid Teacher with a God Complex"…Ed called him a lot of things. And in Ed's defense, Roy hadn't exactly been too kind with the short jokes, either. Calling him a twelve-year-old wasn't the best first impression, after all.

But still…with this animosity, it was going to be hard to have to explain all of this to him when the time came.

Professor Roy Mustang glanced up from the board, shooting Alphonse Elric a _look_ before turning and writing again. Luckily Alfons didn't seem to notice the redness that spread across his cheeks, and Ed was too busy glowering up at the man to glance over at his younger brother's features.

But for now…he could enjoy what he had.

After all, he had an entire year.

And a lot can happen in that time.


	2. Just Another Morning

僕たちの小さなヒミツ：学園物語

**One:**

**"Just another Morning"**

* * *

"Damn it Al, it's too _early_ for this. I could hear you all the way in the shower."

Alphonse Elric looked up from the skillet, tune stopped half-note as his older brother shambled down the stairs, showered yet still half-awake. It was a wonder how he'd managed to put his hair up and dress at all, really—but then again, Ed had been putting on the same red hoodie and wearing his hair in the same high ponytail for _weeks_ now, to the point where he could have probably dressed himself in his sleep.

"Good morning to you too, Brother." Al turned back to the eggs, stirring them once more.

"What, is Sparkles having you guys practice at _home_ now, too? Aren't the daily and Friday afternoon practices enough?"

Al rolled his eyes, grabbing the grape jelly and putting a dollop in with the cooked egg, He chose to ignore the loud _thump _of his brother's head hitting the surface of the dining room table, hair most likely in his mouth and eyes closed in preparation for a tableside nap. "Some people just like to sing, Brother."

"…At six thirty in the morning?"

"Sometimes."

"That's _inhuman_."

"To some, maybe," _Plate, plate...oh! There it is._ "I made some breakfast, Brother. Hungry?"

"Fuckin' starving." Came Ed's muffled reply. Well, at least he was still awake. That was a good sign.

"Coffee's also started, if you want any. I know you usually don't like the extra-strong stuff, but with that all-nighter you pulled, I'd figured that you'd need it."

"Y'know Al," Ed sounded slightly more awake now, though maybe that was just the happier tone that flitted in his voice, rather than any sort of semblance of wakefulness. "If you weren't my brother, I'd marry you."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Wait 'til I finish this, then I'll get you a cup, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Don't sleep on the table."

"Uh-huh."

"I mean it, Brother!"

"…"

Not only would he be serving his brother eggs (scrambled eggs with jelly in them—Al preferred to make himself veggie omelets with extra mushroom and onion, though his famous 'french toast eggs' were good too) and coffee, but also a nice hard poke to the side to rouse him back to consciousness. Ed should have learned to balance his time better, in any case—he spent so much time researching that he didn't start writing his paper until seven o'clock the previous night, when he finally realized that the assignment he had worked so hard in the pile of books and papers that he called his room was due at one in the afternoon on the following day. Al had his done days ago, sitting neatly in the manila folder in his bookbag.

But then, that was something that made his brother so amazing—he could rush through something in a night, barreling through it like a freight train, and yet somehow it turned out to be the best in the class, or at least worthy of some recognition.

Now if only all of those teachers who sang praise out to the heavens about Edward Elric's genius knew what it was like to live with him.

"Brother." Alphonse Elric didn't need to look at his brother to know that his face was still on the tabletop, and that there was probably drool coming out the side of his mouth. He set the plate and coffee mug down, sighing.

"Mrph."

"_Brother._" Al repeated, this time looking up at his brother and giving him a well-deserved hard poke in the side. "Wake up."

"Marhg…Al…yer mean…didn't get much sleep."

"You should have finished your assignment earlier." Al said. "Besides, the coffee should help with that."

"It's not Sumatra, is it?"

"It is. Don't worry—I put some caramel syrup in there with some sugar so you won't be able to taste it."

"Thanks, Al."

And sure enough, when Ed took a sip out of the red mug, he didn't spit it out, spraying the contents all over Al's face and shirt. Instead, he sipped it again, and again, and again, until a half-filled mug of Sumatran coffee was set down on the table next to a plate of jelly scrambled eggs, which was half-devoured in a span of thirty seconds.

Al took this pause to make his own coffee (three sugars, hazelnut syrup, vanilla syrup, and lots of cream) and sit down at the table, watching his brother as he started to gain some sort of wakefulness.

"So, what was that anyway?"

"What was what, Brother?"

"That song you were singing. Don't tell me that the music department's actually stopped singing all that religious crap for a change."

"Usually Miss Catherine chooses the music, but Director Armstrong insisted that we sing this song for the Fall Concert."

"How you can put up with him on a daily basis Al, is far beyond me."

"He isn't that bad. He's an amazing director."

"You give teachers too much credit, Al."

Al didn't even bother looking up, rather sipping his coffee slowly, allowing the warmth to course through his body. It was almost like a buzz but not quite, but with the amount of hazelnut and vanilla syrup he had put in with the sugar he was surprised that he wasn't bouncing off the walls or dancing a jig on the dining room table.

"I think you give teachers too _little_ credit, Brother."

"Al, you think that _Mustang_ is a good teacher."

"Well, he is."

"Like I said, Al—you give teachers far too much credit. If you think that perverted bastard has what it takes to be a good teacher…"

"He's not a pervert, Brother."

"He _winked_ at me, Al! _Winked_! There should be something against that in the law books somewhere! Illegal flirting with a student! Inappropriate conduct towards a minor! Something! People don't just _do_ that without—hey, Al, uh...why's your face red? Are you okay?"

"U-um, yeah! I'm fine."

"..."

"_**Brother!**_ Don't fall asleep in your breakfast!!"

---

* * *

---

Roy Mustang's dream of Alphonse Elric transforming into a buxom young woman in a sailor uniform (complete with pleated miniskirt) would have been the best wet dream he'd had in years had it not been for the sad fact that he had to wake up from it before he had a chance to _finish_. Sighing and falling out of bed with an erection that could have cut all of the diamonds in the De Beers Tower with one stroke, he had to go into the bathroom and finish himself off before he could even go and attack the evil entity known as his alarm clock, stopping its blaring attack for yet another morning.

What he wouldn't give to be able to snap his fingers and make the damn thing _explode_. Or maybe just set it on fire, so then he could make a bonfire out of it and dance a deliriously happy tribal dance around the flames, singing nonsense to some faceless totem-god-thing sky in a near-wolfish tone.

But alas, that was not to be, and Roy Mustang was cursed to suffer through an existence that was ruled by the iron fist of said alarm clock (he named it "Riza", though he was sure if the real Riza found out about that she'd pull out her .22 and make him lose control of his most precious bodily functions in a New York minute), and he would wake up at the ungodly hour of six in the morning until the powers that be said otherwise.

Oh, how he _loved_ mornings.

He loved them so much that not even his hot-shower ritual could curb the sleepiness that sat in his eyes, and he had to check himself in the mirror three times to realize that, yes, he had in fact put his suit on correctly, and his tie was _not_ used as a belt again.

Showered, dressed, and (moderately) awake, the first thing that hit Roy Mustang's senses as he opened the bedroom door was the strong scent of dirty laundry in the air. That and the smell of the opened bottle of Crown Royal on the kitchen counter.

_Damn it,_ Roy thought, closing the door behind him and tossing the offending towels into the proper laundry bag, _I should have remembered to close that. Probably tastes terrible now._

But alcohol was the last thing on his mind—well, aside from the fact that an expensive bottle of it was most likely ruined due to his carelessness…and that was definitely something to feel upset about. But even with that thought nagging in the back of his mind, his body wasn't about to hear any of it (even as he put the lid back on the bottle and stored it in its rightful place in the high cabinet)—he didn't need alcohol. He didn't need to clean up the dishes from last night that sat in the sink (not yet, anyway), and he sure as _hell_ didn't need to focus on that annoying cigarette burn in his carpet from when Havoc came over for some drinks last week.

He needed coffee. And he needed coffee _now_.

How was it that Hughes was able to do this? "This" meaning to wake up at an ungodly hour of the morning and be completely happy about it, without once complaining about the lights being too bright or the alarm clock being too loud or the coffee being too _damn_ hard to get to when he needed it _now_, no questions asked? With the way the man beamed every single morning and seemed to have a bounce to his step, it made Roy wonder just what sort of things he drank when he woke up (besides the coffee of course, but even then, Hughes liked Central American Coffee—it was Roy who preferred the stronger African blends), and if he could somehow get some for himself. After all, anything that made a man that happy to wake up in the morning had to be something special...either that or Maes Hughes was immune to the Morning Grind, smiling in the face of impossibles in a way that a man had to admire.

But first things first.

Coffee.

He needed it _now_.

---

* * *

---

"Good morning!"

The classroom was silent, but he hadn't expected any noise coming out of it in any case. He always was a little too early, and with Alfons getting sick again and nearly puking in the car, Winry trying to direct Alfons's head towards the window so he wouldn't throw up, and Ed constantly making grabbing motions for the steering wheel ("C'mon Al! Let me drive this time!"), it was a wonder they got to school at all without getting pulled over or crashing into the nearest telephone pole.

Then again, Edward wasn't driving…maybe that in itself was a good enough sign.

Alphonse let out a sigh and dropped his bookbag on the chair; there was no way that anyone was going to be in the classroom yet. It was far too early; _he_ was never there until a bit later…though thankfully not much later than that…

There was only one thing to do.

…to pretend to do homework that was already done, of course. To doodle on that world-famous unfinished decoy essay while the real one sat finished in his folder nice and neat with the rest of his work, pen floating above the paper, not making any real words but moving in any case.

His brother was already in the cafeteria with Winry, and Alfons had gone out to his early-morning club meeting (did clubs even start that early? He _had_ left rather quickly, and his cell phone was already open…)…Ed had thrown him a suspicious glare when he had said that he was going to see Mr. Musta—no, Roy again before class, but he had shrugged it off, looking casual (despite his insides twisting at the thought of his brother following him) and waving to his brother and friend before going on his way.

On one hand, he was glad that he had managed to do that. Having his extra-paranoid older brother get suspicious was the last thing on his agenda at the moment. Bucking him off his trail was just…

_It's fine now. Brother isn't following you around…he's just worried because he doesn't like Roy…not because he suspects anything. Don't worry—it'll be fine! And it's not like you're seeing him because he's your secret-boyfriend or anything. It's just tutoring. Nothing's wrong with tutoring. _

"Morning."

Al's head flew up, and his body almost lurched out of his chair and fell down towards the ground, hearing that familiar voice. He mentally cursed himself, brushing the bits of dust off his clothes and tucking some strands of hair behind his ear.

Roy Mustang was right on time…or maybe a bit later than usual, he wasn't sure. He hadn't been looking at the clock, but seeing that familiar bit of hair fall over his face, that pale skin, those warm onyx eyes…it made his heart do a thump, and that blush to splash on his cheeks once again.

Just another morning.

"A-ah…Mr. Musta—I mean, Roy! Good morning!"

When he looked up at him, why did he have to avert his eyes?

That was strange…

"Good morning, Alphonse."

"Are you all right?"

Roy coughed once, walking to his usual position at his desk, where he set down his briefcase and draped his suit jacket over the chair.

"I'm well enough, I suppose. I woke up late. And you?"

"I'm all right," he said, setting his 'paper' off to the side. "Alfons got sick in the car again."

"With the rate at which Heiderich falls ill, it's a wonder that he doesn't have his own medical staff onboard at home."

"He has his own nurse, if it counts for anything." And Al had a crush on her, back when he was still a sophomore and she was still new in the Heiderich household, but some things didn't need to be said. Besides, Nurse Clara was a very sweet woman, and had always been there to help Alfons whenever one of his spells took him over. "And he still insisted on going to school, so let's hope he doesn't throw up in class again."

"At the first sign of his falling ill, take him to the nurse's office, no matter how much he complains."

"You don't have to ask me that. You know I will."

"Good."

Awkward. It was always so _awkward_ these days. Already a week after his confession, and it was still hard to call him by his real name, or to be okay with him being held, or to not feel shy at that _look_ his teacher would throw him from across the room.

Still, Alphonse Elric wasn't unhappy with the arrangement.

It was just another morning, after all...

And as Roy gave him that smile, and Alphonse smiled back at him, shyly, it was almost comforting that even so soon, things could go into their own sort of routine.

And their little secret remained theirs.


End file.
